


how to forget

by hoodiestrings



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, First Love, I need sleep, M/M, Outsiders POV, This Is STUPID, Unrequited Love, not dnp, phil loves dan and only dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28112640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoodiestrings/pseuds/hoodiestrings
Summary: Eventually it had hurt less. Eventually he looked at what Phil had become and what he would be, and it didn’t ache like he thought it would.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	how to forget

**Author's Note:**

> just a lil something i wrote. doesn’t make much sense but, oh well.
> 
> ( not beta’d )

It clicked in the middle of the street. Just, one day he saw a blue scarf hanging at the display of a shop and thought, _Phil’s eyes are brighter,_ and then, _oh._

He doesn’t remember _why_ he fell, why _him._ Maybe it was the way Phil had walked up the university stairs and everything had seemed to still. Or maybe it was the way he talked, and listened to him talk, and wished him goodnight every time he slipped to his room ( _sweet dreams_ at the top of the stairs), and remembered the way he liked his tea ( _two sugar,_ a hum in the empty kitchen). Whatever it was, one day he had looked at him and kept looking.

And when university was finished and they parted ways, he left and took away the air around him.

He was the one to send the first text, a few days later – _saw a film today, reminded me of you_ – and he had berated himself for being so helpless, but he had also waited.

Phil’s response was quick: _which was it :o_

He doesn’t remember the name of the film anymore, but he remembers the way it had made him feel.

_so what are you doing? now that there’s no uni_

Phil had typed and re-typed for several minutes and he had just stared at the screen. And when the reply came _– you know, just the youtube stuff –_ he had pulled up the website and searched.

He had never let him drift away. Or maybe he had fooled himself. They used to talk until they stopped making sense and when they skyped he couldn’t look at anyone, anything except him. He watched all his videos, and stored away every little thing he said (he has a brother, older, and he loved him with his whole heart. And his favourite colour was the colour of the morning sky, a gentle blue. Somehow, that made sense). And he thought, maybe, _maybe_ – but it was just him, wasn’t it?

The first time Dan came up, it was on a Tuesday. _No one, just someone I met online,_ Phil had said. He hadn’t seemed like a no one (he wasn’t). And suddenly all Phil could talk about was the guy from the internet. Just little things (just _Dan loves that song!_ and _he told me a funny joke recently!_ Just – just Dan. As if he was the only person ever. As if all he knew was _Dan)._

He had asked him on a Wednesday, _do you love him?_ Blurted it out, really. And Phil had stilled, looked away. He was blushing. And he? He had got his answer.

Phil was his first love and the first time he got his heartbroken. He had gritted out a _good for you_ and then promptly hung up. Phil had messaged for days after, and he had ignored all of them until he stopped.

He didn’t know how to – how to _stop_ the way it hurt, curled into his stomach right where he had felt the warmth. He went on twitter every night, watched every video. He saw the way Phil looked at Dan, talked about him, felt for him. It had hurt but he hadn’t been able to stay away. When _phil is not on fire_ came out, he had replayed it; once, twice, again and again and again until his pillow was soaked and the carton of chocolate ice-cream was empty on his bedside table. The video was paused where Phil had pressed his chest to Dan’s chest, and he had wondered whether he would ever have someone like that.

Eventually it had hurt less. Eventually he looked at what Phil had become and what he would be, and it didn’t ache like he thought it would.

_I’ll be okay,_ he had kept telling himself. That day he meant it.

And he is.

From two rooms over, his daughter wails, and Alex calls out to him, _can you check up on her? i am making dinner,_ singing a _love you_ and then a Taylor Swift song when he agrees. He feels warm, happy; smiles at the screen of his laptop.

_He said yes,_ the caption reads.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! please leave feedbacks ^_^


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